The Problem in the Proposal
by calliopeiamuse08
Summary: Stand-alone sequel to "The Solution in the Psychologist." Booth is going to marry Bones - the only problem is getting her to agree. Couldn't be too hard to convince her, right? Right? Now Complete. Ch. 8: Bones and Booth share a moment in her office.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: _Welcome to my latest fic! Okay, so if you read The Solution in the Psychologist, you may have been impressed by the swiftness of my updates. Well, folks, now I am back at college, so things will not be quite so swift. I'm gonna shoot for no more than 2-3 days per chapter, but I've already had to deal with a computer virus this week so no promises. _

_If you didn't read The Solution in the Psychologist, never fear. This story is its own thing - just know that B&B love each other and have said so aloud. They have also been at it like rabbits. :P This story, like that one, will be strong T but never M. Sorry - I am no good at smut, or as the Germans call it, "Der Schmutt."* _

_And, finally, I love love luuuuuuv reviews. In fact, I love them so much that if you write a review, I will send you your very own David Boreanaz. Those who have reviewed my works in the past will attest that Boreanazes are extremely useful around the house and all of your female/gay male friends will be very jealous. Heck, even your straight male friends will be jealous. He's _just that hot_. _

_Now, without further ado, The Actual Thing You Came Here For. _

_*Author does not speak German - do not try to impress your German friends with your newfound knowledge. _

* * *

He kissed her like he was a thirsty man in the desert, and she was a cool running stream; breathless, needy, desperate, he was trying to drink her all up. He worked his way down from her warm, demanding mouth to the smooth skin of her throat.

"_Boooooooth_," she moaned, the vibrations resonating through his lips.

He couldn't help it. "_Marry me_," he gasped.

The fingers she was raking through his hair tightened, and she ground her hips against him. A diversion tactic. "No," she whispered.

He yanked her seductive hands off of him and pinned her to the bed, still trying to catch his breath but dangerously in control of himself. He always had to be, when he got rough. He knew she would ridicule him if she found out, but he was terrified of leaving a single bruise on that flawless, pale skin. "Marry me, Bones," he growled.

Her eyes were dark and hungry. He knew she liked it when he occasionally got bossy – but he suspected it was mostly because it gave her an excuse to be bossy right back. Which he _loved_. So he wasn't surprised when he found himself flipped on his back, the woman of his dreams straddling him triumphantly with a wicked smile. "For the last time, Booth, no."

Then, seeing the somewhat crestfallen look on his face, she leaned down and planted the gentlest of apologetic kisses on his lips. "I love you," she murmured.

"I know," he sighed. "That's the worst of it."

~*~

He'd broached the topic of marriage several times before, and each time she'd promptly shut him down. Honestly, he didn't really expect any other response, but a man had to try, didn't he? His impromptu proposal was totally unplanned; he had previously decided not to pop the actual question until he'd worn her down a little. Well, there went that idea.

He wouldn't even bother trying to convince her if he thought for one second that she was refusing him for the right reasons. She wasn't saying no because she didn't really want to be married, she was saying no on the _principle_ of the thing, which was the exact same reason they'd spent five years dancing around each other before finally admitting their true feelings. And Seeley Booth was not going to make that mistake again. No sirree.

He had a ring. She didn't know he had a ring, but he'd gotten one. He was pretty sure she would find the whole down-on-one-knee thing trite, but if – no, _when_ – she did say yes, he wanted to have a ring to give her. Call it old-fashioned, but it was something he needed. So he kept it hidden and bided his time. Biding his time – that was one thing Booth had learned to do quite well with Bones.

And now she was curled up asleep in his arms, her soft cheek resting on his chest, looking for all the world like a peaceful angel instead of the little devil she really was. Booth smiled to himself. Well, he wouldn't have fallen in love with her in the first place if deep down he didn't like the way she antagonized him. He liked the way they argued – not angry, just defiant and competitive, each convinced of their own correctness and struggling to gain the upper hand, each challenging the other to best them. And when they really got into it, the adrenaline would start pumping and blood would get flowing and pretty soon he'd forget what they'd started arguing about because the room had gotten so damn _hot_. Temperance Brennan was the only woman who could make him feel so incredibly frustrated and so incredibly turned on at the same time.

He briefly wondered if there might be something wrong with him. Falling in love with a woman who constantly pushed his buttons _because _she constantly pushed his buttons – that made him seem like a glutton for punishment, didn't it? Maybe he had more of a masochistic streak than he wanted to admit…

But then again, at the end of the day, he _won_ a lot of their arguments. There was nothing he loved more than getting the last word. Bones didn't concede defeat easily or often, but when she did… he felt like a kindergartner with a gold star. He'd be filled with an absurd sense of accomplishment, as if Bones' reluctant approval was the highest honor in the world. To be fair, it wasn't _that_ reluctant; she was nothing if not a good sport.

She stirred a little, nuzzling into his chest as if he were an oversized pillow and reaching her arm up and around his neck. _What's your problem, Seeley?_ he wondered. _What's the big rush?_ _Why isn't this enough for you? Why can't you be satisfied with what you have? _

He gazed down at her sleeping face. Christ, she was beautiful. An unexpected lump rose in his throat. _Because she means so much more to me than just this. Because I want to tell the world that she's mine and I'm hers. Because I want her with me for the rest of my life and I need her to _know _that I want her with me for the rest of my life. Because I love her. And… _He swallowed. Hard. _I can't stand the thought of her slipping away from me. _

He pulled his arms around her a little tighter, suddenly dreading the moment when she woke up and he had to let her go.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: _Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who reviewed. I hope you find your Boreanazes satisfactory. For those of you just joining us now, we're offering free David Boreanazes for the low low price of one review. Review in the next ten minutes and we'll throw in the Christmas Special Boreanaz™ absolutely free. Comes with a stylish suit that has been contaminated with evidence, a "Cocky" belt, a pair of plaid boxers and sterile gloves; this Christmas, tell your Boreanaz, "Hands off!_ I_ get to unwrap my present now!"*_

_*The author is aware that it is no longer Christmas. However, she posits that Christmas Special Boreanaz™ can be enjoyed all 365 days of the year. _

_ And now, back to your regularly scheduled programming._

* * *

The next morning was bright and cold and came far too early, the beeping of the alarm clock forcing them to emerge from their warm cocoon of blankets and face the world. On days like these, Brennan sometimes wished that she and Booth were unemployed. They ate cereal together at her kitchen table, the comfortable silence broken by the clinking of spoon against bowl and the audible crunch of their mastication.

Brennan couldn't forget Booth's words last night. Despite the fact that he had proposed in the heat of the moment, and nothing she had ever done would indicate that she was going to accept, she felt… almost guilty for turning him down. If he only understood how she felt, maybe he wouldn't have looked so disappointed. He said he _knew_ that she loved him. Wasn't that enough? What more did he hope to gain from marriage?

Suddenly she understood what was missing. "Would you like to move in with me?" she blurted out.

Booth froze, his spoon halfway between his mouth and his bowl, and stared at her as if she had spoken in Chinese.

She had caught him off-guard; this happened often when she carried out a train of thought silently and spoke the conclusion aloud. "You asked me to marry you," she explained, "and I thought, maybe moving in together would be an acceptable compromise…"

He sighed and returned his spoon to his bowl. "Bones, first of all, yes. I would _like_ to move in with you. _But_ -" He held up a finger, signaling her not to interrupt – "_but_, I have a son. My home is his home. I can't just move."

She shrugged. "I would be just as happy to move in with you. I just didn't think it would be polite to volunteer before being asked." _Which I just did_, she realized belatedly.

He smiled for a moment, an amused little smile that she knew meant he was charmed by her bluntness. But then the serious expression returned to his face. "And second of all, I think you might be asking me to move in because you think that it'll – _appease_ me or something and I'll stop wanting to tie the knot. If you want to move in with me, then I want you to move in with me, but if you want to move in with me because you think that I want you to move in with me and not because _you_ actually want to, then… I don't. I think. I don't know what I'm saying anymore." He lowered his gaze to his bowl and took a bite of his cereal.

"I don't understand," Brennan said slowly, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. The man was incomprehensible sometimes. "The only tangible difference between our current relationship and marriage is cohabitation. I offer to cohabitate, and you refuse. What is it that you want?"

"_Bones_," he said, almost pleadingly. "Temperance." He rubbed his forehead. "I'm not trying to blackmail you here," he continued quietly, raising his eyes to hers. "I didn't propose so you could say no and I could guilt-trip you into giving me what I want; I proposed because I want to marry you. And I certainly don't want to marry you just to _get_ something from you. I want you to want to marry me, whether or not I want to – Damn it." The hand pressed to his head clenched into a fist, and he bumped it against his forehead in frustration. "It's too early for this discussion. I can't think straight."

"Well, I didn't follow much of what you said," Brennan admitted, "but I still want to move in. I like the idea, regardless of our marital debate." And it was true; the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. It would save money on gas, not to mention utilities, and for all practical purposes they already cohabitated – they spent almost every night together and each had a drawer at the other's apartment.

And a little part of her thought maybe it would make him see that they didn't need to be married to be happy.

As if he read her thoughts, Booth shot her a suspicious glance. "How about this, Bones. When we get off work tonight, we're going to have a little debate. A very civilized, very rational debate about the pros and cons of getting married. If you win, you move in with me and I never bring up the topic again."

She raised her eyebrows. "And if you win? Not, of course, that it's very likely."

"We hold off on living together until I'm satisfied that it's not another one of your clever ploys to distract me from difficult subjects with your sexy body." He smirked. "And let's just say, marriage stays on the table."

Brennan narrowed her eyes and grinned. "You're on."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: _So, so many thanks to all of you who reviewed. Alas, I don't have time to thank each and every one of you personally, but trust me, I appreciate every single review. Even if you review to tell me that I've clearly never watched the show and that my writing is horrendous, I will_ still _send you a Boreanaz because_ your patronage is important to me.

_Those of you who review this chapter will receive, in addition to the standard Boreanaz, our newest model: Ty Panitz, aka Parker Booth. Frolick in the park with Seeley and Parker, and watch your Boreanaz transform into an adorably protective father. Your daytime activites may be G-rated, but once he gets the little guy tucked in, watch out, because the sparks will fly! Every Panitz comes with a head of curly blonde hair, ideal for ruffling, and he is the mathmatically perfect size for hugging and cuddling.*_

_*Warning: Do not squeeze your Panitz too tightly, or he will asphyxiate._

* * *

Booth spotted Angela working at her computer. She was alone – perfect. He knocked on the doorway.

She looked up from the screen and flashed him a smile. "Hey, Booth. I haven't finished the facial reconstruction yet, but I'll get it to you this afternoon."

"I'm not here about that," he told her, approaching her desk hesitantly. "I wanna talk to you about something a little more… personal. I need your advice."

Her smile widened. "Special Agent Seeley Booth needs my advice about something _personal_. Could it have something to do with a certain forensic anthropologist we both know and love?"

"Yeah, it's about Bones," he replied. "I need to know how to convince her to marry me."

"Oh, sweetie." She rolled her eyes. "Trust me. Let that dream go. The longer you hold on, the harder it will be in the long run."

"Well, here's the thing." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I sorta already proposed to her."

Angela stared at him, mouth hanging open. "You _proposed_? To _Brennan_?"

"I guess it wasn't much of a proposal," he admitted. "It was an accident. We were… fooling around –" his cheeks grew hot – "and it kind of slipped out. But now I've agreed to make a convincing rational argument for marriage or drop the subject forever. And I _really_ don't want to drop the subject forever."

She narrowed her eyes. "What exactly did you say?"

He shrugged. "My exact words? Marry me."

Angela sighed. "Okay, first of all, next time try phrasing it as a question. That makes it seem less like you're trying to force her into a patriarchal institution that reinforces the subjugation and repression of women, and more like you care about her opinion on the matter."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," he agreed. "But I don't think my wording is the issue, Angela. She has all these rational, scientific reasons that we can't get married. But she acts like…" He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "Almost like deep down, the logic doesn't even _matter_ because she has her own personal, emotional reasons for telling me no. She acts like a woman who's been burned by marriage before. And I don't get it. Max and Ruth loved each other and had a good marriage by all accounts, and Bones has never been married, so what is it?" _Is it… Is it me? _a timid voice in his head asked._ Does she just not want to marry _me_? _

She exhaled wearily. "Look, Booth," she began. "The people in Brennan's life that she's cared about the most, the ones she's loved the most deeply, have all walked out on her at one time or another. You are the sole exception. Every other person she's let into her heart has ended up breaking it. I'm not saying her father and her brother don't love her, but they've disappointed her. They've let her down. That's her experience – that love can only go so far.

"She thinks it's impossible for you to stay true to her forever, and _science_ tells her it's impossible. But here you are, trying to make all these promises with scary words like 'until death do us part' and 'as long as you both shall live.' She thinks that by not letting you to make those promises, you can't break them later. She doesn't want to marry you because she doesn't want to divorce you." She paused and looked at him questioningly, as if trying to gauge his expression. "Am I making sense here?"

He nodded. "So how do I prove to her that I'm different?" he asked softly. "That I'm not going anywhere?"

Angela sighed. "Honestly, Booth, I don't know."

...

Meanwhile, Brennan sat in the office of Dr. Lance Sweets. She had swallowed her pride and admitted to herself that Sweets would probably understand why Booth was so insistent upon marriage better than she could discern on her own. She had already miscalculated this morning, and her competitive streak wouldn't allow her to lose this debate.

So now he was sitting back in his chair, his fingers clasped, wearing an expression that was equal parts curiosity and professional reserve. "So how did you react?" he asked.

"I said no," Brennan responded. _Obviously_. "But that's not what I came to talk about. I need to know why Booth thinks that marriage is somehow superior to cohabitation, so that I can prepare an informed rebuttal."

"Dr. Brennan." Dr. Sweets leaned forward, the edges of his mouth starting to turn upwards. "Just follow me here. Did you explain to Agent Booth why you turned him down?"

She frowned. "No, I didn't have to explain. He knows very well my position on marriage."

"And what is that position, exactly?" Dr. Sweets inquired casually.

"As a species, human beings are not monogamous animals," Brennan explained. "Males of the species have a genetic imperative to impart their seed to as many partners as possible, while females are instinctively drawn to the male who is the best provider. The concept of marriage is a social construct that originated as a way to ensure the paternity of one's offspring and protect one's lineage, which has become outdated in modern society but is perpetuated by the cultural significance attached to it. It's ridiculous to expect someone to remain faithful to one person for their entire lives."

"I see." Dr. Sweets put his hands on his knees. "So what you're saying is, you don't think you can be faithful to Booth for your entire life."

"No!" Brennan blurted. "Well, that is, yes, in theory."

"Which is it, Dr. Brennan?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "Yes or no?"

"Well, I think that – anthropologically speaking – my infidelity would be possible. That is, I may later meet someone whom I will feel strong sexual attraction for – perhaps to the exclusion of Booth," she stammered. "But I would recognize those feelings as biological urges and choose not to act on them, because I wouldn't want to jeopardize my more valuable relationship with Booth."

"Hmm." Dr. Sweets leaned back and crossed his legs. "Alright then. Maybe I can clear things up for you a bit. I think what Agent Booth wants from you, what he wants from a marriage, is commitment. I think he's afraid that the real reason you don't want to marry him is that you know, deep down, that you don't want to spend the rest of your life with him."

Brennan opened her mouth to object, but he cut her off. "I don't think that's true," he assured her. "But you have to admit, Booth has always been the one in the relationship to really put his heart on the line. And even though he knows that you love him, I think Agent Booth needs reassurance that you aren't going to decide one day that your love is irrational and problematic and move to Uganda."

"Why would I move to Uganda?" she asked, baffled.

Sweets rolled his eyes. "That's not the point. The point is, he knows that you're a strong woman, Dr. Brennan. Strong enough to walk away from the love of your life if you thought it was necessary. He wants you to promise that you won't."

She thought she understood – sort of. "But I can't know what future circumstances we may find ourselves in," she argued. "What if it really does become necessary?"

"I don't know, Dr. Brennan," Dr. Sweets admitted. "But I _can_ tell you this: it will never be necessary to Booth."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: _Wow, you guys are awesome. Seriously, folks, everybody who took the time to write a review is a rockstar. Your Boreanazes and Panitzes are being shipped as we speak. If people could continue to review and let me know what you think of the chapter, I would be forever grateful. Plus, I'll throw in a tuxedo with your Boreanaz, and those things ain't cheap. (Soooo worth the price to see it on your Boreanaz, though - it'll really class up your kinky fantasies. Can you say _Double-Oh Sexy?_*)_

_Also, I realized that this thing is supposed to be a _romance_, so today's chapter brings you a little somethin'-somethin' to remind us all that B&B are crazy for each other's bodies. So read onward!_

_*Author is aware this is a terrible pun, and barely even a pun at all; she invites you to groan aloud._

* * *

Booth took out his keys and was about to unlock his front door when it swung open.

"Hey, Bones," he greeted his partner in surprise. "I take it you let yourself in?"

"I got off early today, and I thought I'd wait for you," she replied quickly. She seemed… apprehensive, almost nervous.

He entered the room and she hastily closed the door behind him. "What is it, Bones?" he asked, concerned.

"What is what?" she inquired, feigning ignorance.

"You're all jumpy." Booth took her by the shoulders, slowly rubbing his hands up and down her arms. "Did something happen at work?"

"No, I was just reflecting on our earlier conversation and… I want you to know –" She stared up at him with those clear blue-green eyes of hers, her face perfectly solemn – "that I'm not moving to Uganda."

"What?" he chuckled. "Why would you be moving to Uganda?"

Her eyes searched his, begging him to understand what she was trying to say. "I suppose what I mean is, I'm not leaving."

His heart thudded painfully, and his breath caught short. How did she _do_ that?How did she always shoot straight to the heart of the matter? "Neither am I," he replied, quiet and serious, telling her silently that he understood.

He reached his hand up to cradle her face, his thumb caressing the curve of her cheekbone. Gently pressing his lips to hers, slow and sweet, he was instantly transported back to the night before; the way she could be so close, so near, so intertwined with him and still all he wanted was to hold her tighter, closer, longer. He restrained himself, keeping the kiss soft and short, parting from her lips and resting his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and breathing the sweet scent of her floral perfume. _Relax, Seeley. She isn't going anywhere._

"I've been thinking about you all day," she murmured.

And that was what pushed him over the edge. How was he supposed to resist a siren song like that? "I think about you _every _day," he whispered hoarsely, and with that he snatched her up in his arms and fervently attempted to kiss the words right out of her.

His hands started taking inventory of her body. _One smooth, firm back? Check. One cute, curvy ass? Mmmm… Check. One petite, slim waist? Check. Two round, soft breasts? Ohhh yeah… Double check. _He felt her insistent hands tugging at his belt buckle, and automatically he began to unbutton her blouse, until he remembered why she was in his apartment in the first place.

"_You!_" he panted, breaking away from her.

"What?" she asked, perplexed.

"You are _distracting me_ with your _feminine wiles_," Booth accused. "So that I'll forget about our little wager."

Bones laughed incredulously. "_You're_ the one who started kissing _me_!"

He shook his finger at her and squinted suspiciously. "That's all a part of your devious plan, trying to make _me_ look like the instigator."

She rolled her eyes. "And you say _Hodgins'_ conspiracies are wild." She smirked at him. "I suppose this is what happens when you become accustomed to speculating all day instead of relying on factual data."

"I do not _speculate_," Booth retorted. "I come up with possible scenarios. Now, let's get down to business."

"Right." Bones started to unbutton her blouse some more.

"No! The _debate!_" Booth clarified.

"Oh." She plopped herself down on the couch, looking somewhat dejected.

Booth sat down next to her, turning his body to face her, and immediately spotted a problem. "And you're going to need to button that back up," he informed her, "or I'm going to end up tackling you mid-sentence."

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"_No_," he told her sternly. "Stop that. We are _having_ this discussion."

She sighed and buttoned up her blouse.

"Now, I'll begin." Booth cleared his throat. "Okay, the first reason we should get married is that we'll save money on taxes."

"Taxes?" Her eyebrows shot up. "Your first reason we should get married is _money_?"

He gave her a lopsided grin. "Well, I thought I would appeal to your pragmatic sensibilities."

She laughed. "Booth, I'm rich. I have millions of dollars –"

"And yet _no television_," he muttered.

"- and I have zero interest in financial incentives."

"But _I'm_ not rich," he countered. "I'm just a lowly government employee. I can use all the tax breaks I can get."

"And, perhaps, you hope to gain some of my vast wealth through marriage?" she asked mock-suspiciously.

"No!"

"There's a word for people like you," she said, narrowing her eyes. "I believe it's 'gold-miner.'"

"It's gold _digger_, Bones, and I am not a gold digger!" Booth protested. "Just because you have more money than me you think I'm scheming to part you from your riches. _Now_ who sounds like Hodgins?"

"I know you're not really interested in my money, Booth," Bones reassured him. "But by the same principle I know that you don't really care about getting tax breaks. So… I think this point goes to me."

He slumped into the cushions. "Fine," he conceded. "But just so you know, I was using my weakest point first. My other reasons are all unbeatable."

"Oh really?" She raised an eyebrow. "Prove it."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: _First things first: You guys ROCK! Yes, I'm talking to you. Everybody who reviewed my story is officially The Coolest. Tell your friends. And please, please, please don't stop. I've gotten seriously addicted to reviews now and if I don't get some, I start jonesin' and it isn't pretty. I get the shakes, sweats, hallucinations, the works. It's bad, man. So please support my unhealthy habit. _

_ Alrighty. Time to answer some questions from the peanut gallery. _

_Q: Can I have two Boreanazes, please?_

_A: You may have one per review. BUT, you can review as many times as you want. So, the ball's in your court._

_Q: Instead of a Boreanaz, can I get a Deschanel?_

_A: Certainly! I have been woefully neglectful of the Deschanel crowd. I will send anyone a very lovely Emily Deschanel upon request. Comes with a lab coat and a complete skeleton for her to inspect. _

_And now, on to the good stuff._

* * *

"Okay, the next reason we should get married is that married people live longer," Booth began. "Up to ten years longer on average."

"Those conclusions are based on pitting the data gathered from married people against all others," Brennan countered. "Those who were cohabitating were haphazardly lumped in with people who were single, or divorced. So there is no way of knowing if simply living together would produce the same positive results." Being the scientist of the two, Brennan was confident that she had the advantage here. She was much better versed in the studies surrounding marriage than Booth.

He rolled his eyes. "Don't you think that's nitpicking?"

"No, I don't. The accuracy and validity of a study are entirely dependent on the finest details," she defended.

He scowled briefly and moved on. "Fine. Next point: if we get married, I can call you my wife. And you can call me your husband."

Brennan was taken aback. Her heartbeat escalated slightly, even though she was mentally certain that those words – _Husband. Wife_. – should mean very little to her. "I fail to see the significance, Booth."

"When we introduce ourselves to people," he explained. "We won't be boyfriend and girlfriend, or partners, or just 'together.' We'll be husband and wife, and everyone will know that we're not just 'dating' – that we're … _committed_ to each other." He looked straight into her eyes with his own warm brown ones. She could almost hear Dr. Sweets' voice in her head.

She brushed the sensation of déjà vu aside for the moment. "But you realize that I'll never be Mrs. Booth," she pointed out, "even if we _were_ to marry. I'll always have the title of doctor, and I'm not taking your name."

He cocked his head slightly, his face suddenly becoming unreadable. "Why's that?" he asked, with a strange tone in his voice. Too late it occurred to Brennan that she may have hurt his feelings.

"Well, because I'm the world renowned Dr_. Brennan_," she explained. "I've published dozens of scientific papers under that name, as well as several novels, and everyone who has ever worked with me knows me by that name. No one is familiar with the work of Dr. Booth. It would be… detrimental to my career to change my name now."

He seemed to understand, nodding slowly. But something inside of her twisted anxiously, compelling her to keep talking. "And, I know that names are inconsequential, but… as you know, Temperance Brennan isn't my original name. It was you who said that it doesn't matter that my name was originally Joy Keenan, because Temperance Brennan is who I am now. It has become my identity – I've made that name my real name. And I don't want to give that up."

He smiled at her, a soft accepting smile that sent a wave of relief washing over her. "I get it," he assured her. He spoke slowly, deliberately. "Having my name's not important. I'm not talking about you belonging to me. I'm talking about us belonging to _each other_. About wearing a ring that tells everyone in the room that your heart isn't taken, it's been given. So that when other men look at you, they'll know they don't stand a chance. And when women look at me, I won't even have to tell them – _I'm with her_."

Brennan was mesmerized by the way he looked at her as he spoke, suddenly unable to breathe or think. Her rational mind suggested countering his argument with a statement about people who weren't afraid to help break others' marriage vows, but for some reason she had no desire to contradict him. It was as if – as if she wanted him to win this one.

_No!_ She rallied against her pathetic emotions. She _couldn't_ let him win this argument, perhaps the most important argument of her life. Every ounce of sense she possessed was screaming at her, trying to warn her that she was falling into a dangerous trap that could only lead to heartbreak and disappointment. She _had_ to win this argument, for both their sakes.

"I concede that point to you," she admitted coolly, standing up from the couch, "but I have several of my own to make."

"Like what?" he asked skeptically.

"First of all, an overwhelming number of marriages end in divorce," she began, pacing and reciting her points as quickly as she could. "Second, the number of couples who experience infidelity is even greater. Third, human beings weren't _built_ to mate for life – eventual dissatisfaction with your partner is inevitable. Fourth, the person you are the most statistically likely to be murdered by is your spouse. Fifth –"

"Murder?!" Booth exploded, leaping up from the couch. "You're seriously saying you don't want to marry me because you're afraid I'll _murder_ you?"

"Of course not!" Brennan exclaimed. "These statistics aren't about _you_, they're about the population in general –"

"Don't you get it?" he demanded angrily, planting himself right in the path of her pacing. "We're not talking about marrying the 'population in general'! I'm not the population in general, I'm not most men on average, I'm not another statistic. I could write a book on all the reasons you won't marry, but you haven't given a single reason why you won't marry _me_!"

She opened her mouth, but she couldn't think of a single thing to say.

"Look, Bones." He sighed and closed his eyes momentarily. "I love you. I love you more than life itself. That's the _only_ reason I need." He opened his eyes, and her breath caught short. The emotion she saw radiating from those eyes pierced her heart. "There's nothing I can say that's going to scientifically prove that it's the right choice. What I'm asking here, Bones, is for you to make a leap of faith. To put faith in me. I'm not asking you to believe in God, or miracles, or even marriage – I'm asking you to believe in _me_." He took her hand and squeezed it. "Because I believe in you."

This man, this man… This man was asking for her trust. She had trusted him before, when the outlook had seemed impossibly bleak. All of the times that she had put her life in his hands came rushing to the surface of her mind. When he told her that he had a gut feeling about something, she didn't question it, because she had grown to realize that he was using some internal algorithm that she would never fully understand. She would readily stake her safety on his instincts, and she actively staked her reputation on them during each investigation. Every day they worked together, she put her faith in him. And all he was asking for was a little bit more.

Why were her eyes suddenly welling up? She blinked quickly, trying to dry the tears before they spilled.

"So, Temperance Brennan…" he continued softly.

Her heart was beating so rapidly it was going to burst from her chest any moment now.

"Will you marry me?"


	6. Chapter 6

A/N:_ You guys are fabulous. I can't say it enough. I love each and every one of you, in a professional, atta-girl/boy kind of way. I bestow upon you a light punch of camaraderie, as our lovely Brennan bestowed upon Booth. Thank you for your kind reviews, and if you could maybe review these last few chapters as they come, you will make my life. _

_I'm sorry to report that if you have received both a Boreanaz and a Deschanel, you may need to keep them in separate enclosures. Some of our customers have reported them getting very deep into character as Booth and Brennan and doing some... *cough* unseemly things. We have designed them specifically to play these roles, so we maintain full responsibility for any discomfort or inconvenience you may experience due to their shenanigans.*_

_And now, to resolve the cliffhanger I so cruelly left you with! _

_*In other news, "shenanigans" has been elected the Most Fun Word to Write, despite sounding like the name of an Irish pub. _

* * *

"Will you marry me?" he asked.

The second of silence that followed was the longest moment of his entire life. The words hung in the air; there was no taking it back – past the point of no return. Her couldn't look anywhere but her eyes, trapped in those shiny blue orbs and frozen in that moment between heartbeats. The light was coming down at just the right angle to make the unshed tears in her eyes sparkle and suddenly he was struck with a terrible understanding. _She's going to say no. She's going to say no and you will never get this close again to changing her mind_.

_I can't lose her. Not now. Please, God, don't let me lose her. _

Her lips parted the merest fraction. "Yes," she whispered.

He couldn't have heard her right. "Yes?" he asked, almost afraid to speak and make her realize her mistake.

"Yes," she repeated, her voice cracking. She reached her hand up to his face. "Yes, Seeley Joseph Booth, I _will_ marry you."

He let out a shaky breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in, which tumbled into an unsteady laugh of relief, and was surprised to find that his own eyes were getting blurry. She smiled a wobbly smile at him, and he did the only thing he _could_ do: he kissed her, clutching her to him fervently and trying his hardest to show her how much that one word meant to him. _She said yes. She said yes_. _Yes. YES. YES! _

_Haaaaaaaaaaaaaa-lle-lu-jah! Haaaaaaaaaaaaa-lle-lu-jah! __Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Halleee-eeeee-lu-jah! _

_I could die right now and I would die happy. _

_But wait, there's something else –_

He broke away from her. "Hold on a second, I'll be right back. Stay right here."

It was in the bottom drawer of his dresser, wrapped inside of an old shirt, right where he left it. He took the small velvet box in his hand and returned to the living room, holding it behind his back. "I have something for you," he told her.

Bones looked puzzled, as if she couldn't for the life of her imagine what he could mean. And, knowing her, she really couldn't.

Booth opened the box for her, revealing the sparkling jewel inside.

The look on her face was priceless. He wished he had a camera to capture the moment: proof that deep down inside of his bone lady, there really was a part of her that appreciated silly archaic romantic gestures. "Oh, _Booth_," she breathed, gingerly taking the ring out of its case. "It's beautiful." Then she tore her eyes away from the diamond for a moment to glance at him. "How did you afford this?"

"Ah, it was nothing," he lied. "Don't worry about it. What's important is whether or not it fits." And with that, he took the ring from her and slid it gently onto her finger.

"It fits perfectly," she murmured, staring at her hand, captivated. Then she shot an impish smile at him. "Although you do realize that the engagement ring is a remnant of the ancient custom wherein the groom pays a bride price, essentially buying his wife."

"Don't think of it as an engagement ring, then," he suggested. "Think of it as a gift, from me to you, that just _happens_ to coincide with our engagement." Booth couldn't believe that this was real – Bones, standing here in front of him, wearing his ring, agreeing to be his wife, and making all of his dreams come true. She could call the thing whatever the hell she wanted.

Bones held her hand out from her body, inspecting the glittering stone as if it were another artifact dug up from some ancient grave. She sighed. "It's a shame I have to take it off." She slid the ring off of her finger and replaced it in the box, snapping the lid shut.

"Off?" he asked, alarmed. "Why off? Why is the ring coming off?"

She looked surprised, as if the answer were obvious. "The ring is sharp, Booth. I imagine that it would severely impede our raucous lovemaking."

Booth grinned. "Yeah, raucous is right. I got a complaint from the neighbors the other day – apparently we're keeping 'em up at night. You might want to keep it down."

"_I_ should keep it down?" she asked incredulously. "I believe _you_ were the one invoking the name of your deity as loudly as you were able." She smiled mischievously. "Besides, I can't help it if you make me somewhat… enthusiastic."

"Enthusiastic?" he teased, advancing towards her, bringing his body close to hers. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

She arched one eyebrow, her eyes playful. "Would you prefer me to be more specific?"

Slowly he kept advancing; whenever he got close enough, she backed up just a little. "Why do you even ask?"

"Alright then." Her back was against the wall now. There was nowhere for her to retreat to. "You _stimulate_ me, Booth."

"Better," he muttered, bringing his face within an inch of hers.

"You _arouse_ me," she murmured, her hot breath warming his lips.

"Even better," he growled, pinning her wrists to the wall on either side of her.

She sucked in her breath, her eyes hungry and dark. "And the only way I know how to relieve said arousal involves pressing my flesh against yours and vocalizing my pleasure at high volume. I can try to alter my habits, of course –"

"No," he interrupted hoarsely. "Screw the neighbors. The only thing that turns me on more than your fantastic body is the way you moan my name." He crushed his lips against hers and kissed her fiercely, greedily, demandingly. His mouth only retreated when he stopped to gasp for air.

"Booth," she panted. "Bedroom. Now."

"Sure thing, pretty lady," he replied breathlessly, flashing his most deceptively charming smile at her. Then he threw her over his shoulder and carried her to the bedroom.

"_Booth!_" she shrieked, flailing her limbs. "Put me down!"

"Okay," he chuckled. "You asked for it." He dropped her onto the bed and tackled her, unable to hold back any longer. She yelped and quickly tackled him back, and neither could restrain the giddy laughter that welled up uncontrollably. Booth hungrily tore her clothes off, thinking, _This woman is my fiancée. She is going to be my wife. She is mine. _All_ mine._

Needless to say, the neighbors had yet another sleepless night.

* * *

A/N: _Whew! That's all T-rated, right guys? I pretty much determine the T versus M rating by judging whether or not it could be aired on TV in a real episode. This chapter toes the line a little, though. Also, I just wanted to mention that the "Haaaaaaaaaallelujah" stuff is my best effort at replicating the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel's Messiah. Hopefully it came across that way. :P If you are nice enough to drop me a review, let me know if you got it when you read it._


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: _Because you guys are so good, and you have given me so many lovely reviews, and I happened to have a bit of time on my hands, I'm giving you this chapter a day early. I'm thinking this is probably the second-to-last chapter; there's only a couple more things I want to wrap up. Please keep reviewing, you beautiful people you. *bursts into song* _It's true! I mean it! From the bottom of my heaa-aart, yes it's true! Without you I would fa-a-all... a-part!_*_

_Those of you who did review get more Boreanazes, Deschanels, and Panitzes. They're on the loading dock right now. Since these are the last few chapters, we're going to start an incredible, once-in-a-lifetime offer: if you review now, you will recieve our entire Squint Squad™ set, absolutely free! TJ Thyne, Michaela Conlin, and Tamara Taylor, all with regulation Jeffersonian lab coats and ridiculous amounts of intelligence! Order now by leaving a review!_

_And now, Calliopeiamuse proudly presents... The Chapter. _

_*Those of you who recognized this as a Backstreet Boys song will get a free Backstreet Boys karaoke CD with your Boreanaz. However, do NOT let him use it - sadly, Boreanazes cannot carry a tune to save their lives. _

* * *

Angela sat at her computer, glancing anxiously at the door. Brennan was never late. And if her conversation with Booth was any indicator, she was probably late because he'd popped the question again last night and things had either gone very, very badly or very, very well. She feared the worst and hoped for the best, and was having a difficult time doing anything except jiggling her leg and biting her lip. Honestly, she was a bundle of nerves.

So when Brennan finally walked through that door, she nearly had a heart attack, because there, on her left ring finger, was a huge, gorgeous diamond. "Sweetie," Angela intoned, staring at that ring with eyes as huge as saucers, "please tell me that the reason you're wearing a rock the size of Gibraltar on your finger has something to do with Booth."

"Actually, yes," Brennan admitted. "I was just about to tell you. Booth and I are engaged."

Angela leapt up and clutched Brennan in her arms, squealing and bouncing excitedly. "Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod congratulations I'm so happy for you Bren you have no idea how happy and I've been waiting for this for so long and you two are so _perfect _for each other!" she babbled.

"Thank you," Brennan replied, patting her back awkwardly and wearing a bemused smile. "Are you… crying?"

Angela released her from her embrace, breathing deeply through her nose and flapping her hand at her eyes. "I've just never thought this day would come," she squeaked. "I wished and hoped and prayed it would happen, but I never thought it really would." She smiled and gave a choked laugh. "Listen to me. I sound like _I'm_ the one getting married. I can't believe you're _getting married!_" She flung her arms around Brennan again, unable to contain herself.

Brennan cleared her throat. "I wanted to ask you…" She trailed off.

"What?" Angela let her go, thinking maybe all this prolonged contact was making her uncomfortable.

"Would you like to be my maid of honor?" Brennan asked hesitantly.

Angela grinned. "As if you could stop me! Sweetie, you are going to have the craziest bachelorette party D.C. has ever seen!"

"Did someone catch a killer over here?"

The two of them spun around to see Cam standing in the doorway.

"I heard squealing," Cam explained.

"Angela was squealing because Booth and I are engaged, not because we solved the case," Brennan answered matter-of-factly. "The killer remains at large."

Cam's face was frozen in shock. "Engaged? As in, engaged to be married?"

"Yes." Brennan glanced at Angela, wondering if she were missing something.

Cam opened her mouth to speak and then shut it, seeming to reconsider. Finally she smiled warmly at Brennan and said, "Congratulations. If that's all you have for me, then I'll just be going now." Then she turned. "Oh, and by the way, good work, Angela."

Angela threw her hands in the air. "Don't thank me, it was all Booth."

Cam smiled a private, knowing smile and nodded, and briskly exited the office.

"What was she talking about?" Brennan asked.

"Oh, nothing," Angela fibbed. "Just a little side project I've been working on for a while now."

"With Booth?" Brennan's eyebrows shot up.

"Well, uh, no, it's just that, uh, he was sort of the inspiration," Angela stammered. "For my art. Which is what Cam was talking about."

"Oh." Luckily, Brennan seemed to accept this and didn't question it further.

By the time Booth came to the lab, everyone had been informed of the recent development. They were all eager to congratulate him as they gathered around the Angelator. Hodgins, in fact, looked at him almost _reverently_, saying, "Congratulations, man. I mean, wow. I guess if anybody could convince Dr. Brennan to marry, it _would_ be you, but seriously. I didn't think it would be in _my_ lifetime."

"Well, he didn't actually _convince_ me," Brennan joked. "He's actually blackmailing me. He has some… compromising photos."

Booth leaned in with a scandalized expression on his face, speaking in a loud stage whisper. "Yeah, apparently she's been having inappropriate relations with a _federal agent_. Can you imagine?"

"_I _can," Angela quipped a little too enthusiastically, eliciting a glance from Hodgins. She hastily returned to operating the simulator.

After reviewing the reenactment of the crime, they all departed their separate ways, but Booth hung back a moment. He approached Angela. "Hey, Ange."

She looked up from her tablet. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to say… thanks. For the advice."

She smiled. "You're welcome. And... thanks for hanging in there, with Brennan. For not giving up on her."

He smiled back. "Well, she's never given up on me." He shifted his weight slightly. "So, I hear you're the maid of honor."

Angela beamed. "That I am."

"Look, I know you're going to want to plan a wild party for Bones, but –" He crossed his arms nervously. "Can you just promise me there won't be any strippers?"

"Jealous, much?" she teased.

"Just promise me, Angela."

She sighed. "Fine. I promise we'll have a boring, no-fun bachelorette party without any muscular men dancing around in booty shorts."

He flashed a brilliant, toothy smile at her and patted her shoulder. "Thanks a million," he said, and then he dashed out the door.

...

Back at his office at the FBI building, Booth knew there was one more thing he had to do. He picked up the phone and dialed the number.

"Hello?" a male voice on the other end asked.

"Hey, Jared. It's me, Seeley."

"Hey. What's up?"

Booth chewed the inside of his lip. He hated talking on the phone; he was no good at it. "Well, I have some news. I asked Bones to marry me, and she said yes."

A beat of silence. "Wow - Congratulations. I'm glad Bones is finally making an honest man out of you."

He snorted. "Thanks. I was wondering –" He crossed his free arm over his chest. _I should have done this in person._ "Well. There's an opening for a best man, if you're interested."

There was an even longer moment of silence. "Well, _yeah_," Jared replied. "Of course I'm interested. You're my big bro."

"Great," Booth said, the tightness in his chest suddenly dissipating. "We haven't got the date pinned down yet, but it's going to be pretty soon. She doesn't want anything fancy. Very low-key."

"Gonna have a _barebones_ wedding?" Jared quipped.

Booth groaned. "That was terrible."

"I know," Jared chuckled. "But someone had to say it, sooner or later." He paused. "So what's next for you two? Gonna buy a house in the hills and pop out a few dozen kids?"

"Nah," Booth denied. "Probably only one dozen."

"Right, that's probably smart. Listen, I gotta go, but congratulations again. And – thanks. I'm gonna throw a sweet bachelor party for you."

"You don't have to do that."

"No, don't worry about it. I'll be sure to use your credit card," Jared kidded.

"Right."

"Okay, talk to you later."

"Bye."

Booth hung up the phone, leaned back in his chair, and smiled.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: _This is it. The last chapter. The end of the story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I will actually be going into temporary retirement from authoring fanfiction for the next month or so. I've written a novel, and I'm in the process of editing it, and I don't have the time to be working on two stories at once. I took a little break from my novel to gain some perspective, but I couldn't stop writing, so I turned my creative juices towards my fave TV show: Bones. Now it's time for me to get back to my novel and finish everything I started. Thank you so much for your incredible reviews - you are all extremely kind, and you make my heart smile, like this: (:_

_And now, for the prizes. For our final closeout liquidation sale, all Bones cast must go. That means anyone who reviews this last chapter will not only get the Boreanaz, Deschanel, Panitz, and Squint Squad package, but a special edition limited-time-offer Eric Millegan, aka Zack Addy. With your own Millegan, you can pretend like Zack never went crazy and apprenticed himself to a serial killer. After all, isn't denial the healthiest way to cope?*_

_Without any more stalling, here it is: The Last Chapter. _

_*Author is not a therapist. Do not take her advice, it may cause you to develop serious emotional issues._

* * *

"Bones?"

She snuggled into his shirt. It smelled like Spring Fresh detergent and Booth. It was nice.

"Time to get up. We got a case to solve."

She tightened her arms around his neck. Her office couch was just the right size if she twined herself around him like this. "Let's just nap a little longer," she murmured.

He chuckled, and she felt his hand smooth her hair. "After awhile, Bones, it stops being a nap and starts being a slumber." He rubbed her back. "C'mon. Wakey, wakey."

For some reason, every fiber of her being resisted letting go. The deeper, irrational corners of her heart whispered that if she just held on a little longer, remained in his arms a little longer, felt his solid presence and knew beyond a doubt that he was _there _a little longer, she would be satisfied. But somehow, it was never enough. She knew it would never be enough. The moment she let him go, a tiny cold knot of anxiety would start to form in the pit of her stomach, and she would begin to wonder what madness had persuaded her that he could be hers forever. Of course he couldn't be hers forever, couldn't love her forever – forever stretched far beyond their lifetimes. They'd be dead and gone before they reached the end of forever, and his affection would likely wear out sometime around a decade from now.

But then he'd put his arms around her again, and she'd remember why she accepted his proposal in the first place: because she had faith in him. She loved him too much not to. And somehow, his touch alone could drag her mind away from the horrible, logical future she saw and back into the present with him. Maybe he would be here later, maybe not, but he was here now. And for now, _now_ was enough.

"Booth?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Are you scared?"

He rested his cheek against the top of her head. "Of what?"

"Of us." She buried her face in his shoulder. "Getting married."

She could feel the flexion of his face muscles; he was smiling. "Bones, the only thing I'm scared of is a lawyer showing up at our wedding and telling me you're already married to a mystery man from Fiji."

"That's not going to happen," she reassured him.

"I know." He paused a moment. "Why? Are _you_ scared?"

"No," she instinctively answered. Then she felt ashamed of the lie. "Well, yes. A little. I'm a little scared."

He wrapped his arms around her securely, enveloping her in his warm embrace. _How does he do that?_ Brennan wondered. _How does he always tell me exactly what I need to hear without saying a word?_

"What scares you, Bones?" he murmured.

"What happens if marriage doesn't work?" she whispered. "What if our happiness doesn't last? What if we end up stifling each other, and we find ourselves trapped, bound to each other but desperate to leave? What if getting married _ruins_ us?"

"Hey." His voice was strong, confident. "Hey. Don't talk like that. A brilliant woman once told me never to jump to conclusions."

"No, _I_ told you that," she corrected. Then she understood. "Oh. You were referring to me."

"I think for a second there, you were jealous of yourself," he teased.

"I wasn't jealous!" Brennan protested. "I merely wanted you to attribute the advice to its rightful source."

"Right." He chuckled. "But my point is, you don't need to be scared of that stuff. There's no reason to believe it's going to happen. There's no evidence, no data to support it. That's why _I'm_ not scared." His words were bold, but somehow she didn't believe him; the tone of his voice belied him.

"Or maybe there _is_ evidence, and you _are_ scared," she suggested, "but you're foolhardy and imprudent enough to ignore the warning signs and proceed anyway, propelled by the strength of your convictions."

He was quiet for a moment. "Some people would call that brave."

"Then maybe…" She shifted around so that she could lean back and see his face. "Maybe I can be a little scared, and you can be brave enough for the both of us."

Booth looked into her eyes and smiled. "I can do that."

She kissed him, realizing just how fortunate she was to have him. _I love you_.

He kissed her back. _I love you too_.

"Now, we really need to get up," he told her. "Or I'll give you something to be _really_ scared about."

"Like what?" she asked, not moving an inch.

He spoke in a menacing whisper, as if uttering the darkest threat. "I'll _serenade_ you."

"I'm up, I'm up!" she exclaimed, sitting up and jumping off the couch.

"Too late!" he declared. "It's happening now, baby, I can feel it!" He leapt up from the couch and threw his arms out spread-eagle. Then, wearing his cheesiest crooner face, he began belting out a song. "Wooooaah, myyy-y-y lo-ove, my da-a-arlin', I've huuuungered for… Yoo-o-our touch, a long…. Lonely time!"

"Oh, God, Booth, stop, please," she begged him between laughs. His singing was truly atrocious; she only recognized the song as Unchained Melody from the lyrics.

There was no stopping him now, however. He grabbed a Guatemalan artifact from one of her shelves and sang into it like a microphone, continuing with gusto. "And tiiiiiiiiiime, go-o-oes by-y, so slo-owly, and time… can do… so-o-o much! Aaa-a-are youuu! Still miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine?"

"No more, no more," she choked out, barely able to speak.

He threw himself to his knees at her feet, one arm stretched dramatically towards her face, his own face scrunched up with the force of his singing. "I-i-i-i NEEEEEEEEEE-EEEE-EEEED YO-OUR LO-OVE! I-hi-i-i…. Need your love. Go-od speed, your lo-ove, tooooooo-oo-OO-OO MEEE-EE-EE-EEEE!" And then he flung his arms around her waist and pulled her to the ground, kissing her enthusiastically. She tried to kiss him back but she couldn't stop laughing, which got him laughing too, and soon they were both prostrate on the floor trying to keep their sides from splitting.

When their giggle fit subsided, they both laid there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. Booth sighed and put his hand over hers. "Now, if you ever doubt how much I love you, just take me to a public place and I will repeat that spectacular performance. I'll make a complete and utter fool out of myself just to prove to you that I care."

"I wouldn't ask you too," Brennan told him, turning her head to look at him.

"Did you think that was a _promise_?" Booth asked, staring at her with mock-indignation. "That was a _threat_. You won't have any choice in the matter."

She snorted. "Oh. I see. In that case, I'll be very careful not to doubt you."

"Good." His fingers curled around hers.

She squeezed his hand, and realized she wasn't scared anymore, not even a little.

* * *

A/N: _If you haven't heard the song Booth is singing (perhaps you have been under a rock for the last twenty years?), I strongly urge you to go to Youtube and take a listen. It's "Unchained Melody" by the Righteous Brothers, and I would post a link but the HTML won't let me. It's pretty much THE B&B song. Not to mention, perfect for the ultimate super-cheesy karaoke. Thanks everybody for reading - catch you on the flip side.*_

_*P.S.: If anyone knows what that means, please tell me. _


End file.
